


Heavy Lifting

by thebrightestbird



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AOU spoilers, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrightestbird/pseuds/thebrightestbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a very silly team fic based on the Avengers: Age of Ultron footage reports from Comic-Con. Since there are spoilers, the actual summary is in the notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy Lifting

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Everyone wants a shot at lifting Thor's mighty hammer.
> 
> Note: This story started as a random Tumblr post when the AOU stills first came out. Then I read what was going on in the scene, and well, it just grew from there. 
> 
> http://agentxcarters.tumblr.com/post/92005533091/charades-night-out-of-frame-thor-pantomiming

Thor strikes a pose that involves bending sideways to the point of reaching the floor and lifting his left leg straight into the air.

“I have no idea what you’re supposed to be,” Steve says, “but I am really surprised at your flexibility.”

“Thor, sweetie, you’re getting a little too close to my stellar record collection.” Tony turns to Clint. “The one Barton, quote-unquote, borrows from.”

“Hey, Tony, it’s charades night.” Clint sticks up his right middle finger. “Try to guess what I’m saying.”

Tony smirks. “Can’t. It’s still Thor’s turn.”

“Yeah, it is,” Natasha says, “and you two inconsiderate idiots have left him in that pose for the last two minutes without any guesses.”  

They all look back at Thor who is indeed still in the really impressive pose. The Asgardian is  _limber_. It’s making quite a few of the Avengers in the room think some unheroic thoughts. Very unsavory, wicked thoughts.

It’s porn. Porn is what they’re all thinking about.

Bruce is the first to snap out of it because, well, he really has to keep such thoughts in check the most. (That tricky heart rate of his, you know.) He throws out a couple of weak guesses. “The Leaning Tower of Pisa? The Space Needle?”

The sound of Bruce’s voice seems to knock Tony out of his reverie. As much as Tony loves and respects Bruce, there’s no way in hell he’s losing a game of charades to him. “A crab, goat, pterodactyl?” Tony starts spitting out. “All three? How about pixies?  _Fantasia_?  _The Twilight Saga_! Wait, no. The other one. What was it again?  _Detergent_?!”

Rhodey sighs (long-suffering and, yes, a bit defensive). “ _Divergent_ , Tony. Stop disrespecting young adult literature. Also, the category is famous landmarks, so none of your guesses make sense.” He pauses and turns to Thor (who is  _still_  in that pose).  “And Thor, you’ve got to stop making noises. That’s, like, rule number one of charades.”

“Then how could anyone ever distinguish that I am the Great Spike of Bor?”

“Okay, well, we probably should have established that the landmarks be of Earth.” Rhodey shrugs in apology and continues. “But why would you be making that moaning, gurgling sound for a spike?”

“ ’Tis the sound of the dying breaths of the enemies my grandfather had impaled upon it,” Thor answers, in all seriousness.

After a long, horrified pause, Steve’s had enough. “Ohhhkaaay,” he says with a shudder, “I’m calling it. Charades night is a bust. We gave it our best shot, but we clearly are not a charades kind of team.”

Natasha snorts. “What? You mean this wasn’t a regular Friday night thing with you boys while I was away?”

“Uh, no,” Steve answers. “You did miss a few karaoke nights though.”

Natasha smiles. “That’s a real shame. Listening to Barton sing nothing but Journey songs is paradise compared to that last mission.”

“What was that all about, anyway?” Clint asks. “You said something about Taiwan, crazy brain drugs, Morgan Freeman …”

“Primates were involved too.” Clint raises his eyebrows, but Natasha shakes her head. “It’s just best to move on.”

Thor finally breaks from his pose and moves to the coffee table, placing mjolnir on it, and grabbing his drink. “I am glad you have returned from your journey safely, brave Widow. This part of Midgard was poorer without you.” He raises his drink. “Let us toast our fellow warrior.”

The men in the room join Thor in raising their drinks, giving a collective “To the Black Widow!” Natasha gives a nod and throws back her drink with the rest of her team.

“Thor, I have to ask,” Bruce says, “how is your hammer not splintering and cracking the tabletop?”

“Mjolnir is no burden to any surface on which it is placed. Its power and weight is only felt when wielded by one who is worthy.” In demonstration, Thor picks up the hammer, gives it a quick spin, and then places it back in the same spot on the table with barely a thunk.

“And you’re the only one who can wield it?” Steve asks.

“That has been the case, yes.” Thor takes another swig of his ale and moves his gaze around the room. “So far, at least.”

There it is. What they were all hoping to hear from the Asgardian.

A challenge.

Clint takes the bait first. “No way! I grew up in the circus. This is some side-show trick. Impressive, I’ll grant you, but still.”

“Barton’s right. I’m calling your bluff.” Tony walks over to the hammer. “If I lift it, do I get to rule Asgard?”

“Of course,” Thor answers.

“Good. I promise to be fair and just.”

Thor sits back down, keeps ahold of his drink, and gets comfortable. The night’s entertainment is about to start.

Tony tentatively touches the end of the handle and runs a finger along its shaft. He gets a little bolder the closer he gets to the base and adds his other fingertips, using gentle pressure to feel every groove and bump. When he’s back at the tip, he finally grasps the handle, only loosely though. He twists his wrist as he slowly slides back down the thick, unyielding –

“I need another drink!” Bruce blurts out of nowhere and shuffles quickly to the bar.

“Hey, Thor? Mjolnir isn’t sentient in any way, right?” Clint asks. “Like, it’s not secretly a person who was cursed to live eternity as a hammer or anything?

Thor’s amused by the thought, but he shakes his head. “No. It is powerful, but alas, it is simply an object.”

“Then your stellar handjob skills are wasted on it, Tony. Quit making sweet love to the hammer, and try lifting it already!”

They all murmur in agreement, Bruce giving a particularly ardent “sweet merciful heavens, please.”

“You know what?” Tony starts. “Fine. I was just trying to treat it with the care and respect that any ancient artifact deserves.  Like Cap here.”

Steve almost takes a cue from Clint by flipping Tony off. It’s a near thing, but Steve thinks better of it. He, unfortunately, doesn’t have alcohol as an excuse to make vulgar gestures at pompous billionaires. The cost of being Captain America is just too damn high sometimes.

“Come on, man,” Rhodey says. “Let’s get this over with so we can go on with the evening. Some of us don’t live in this building, and I’m not crashing on your couch.”

Tony huffs. “You should be begging me to sleep on that couch. That couch is awesome. It is like lying on a pile of chow chow puppies.”

“TONY!” That would be everyone in the room shouting.

“All right, already. Like any of you have real jobs to get back to,” Tony mutters, but actually stops talking then. He bends his knees a bit and grips the hammer’s handle tightly.

The Avengers stay quiet, all eyes glued to Tony. A minute goes by and nothing happens.

“Come on, Tony,” Steve says. “Try to lift the thing already.”

“I have been trying!” Tony says sharply. Apparently, the man has been straining to move mjolnir the whole time, but since gravity seems to love the damn thing so much, he hasn’t even budged it.

“Seriously, man? You’re not acting?” Clint asks.

“No! It’s not moving!” Tony gives a few more jerks on the handle at different angles. “Rhodey, pal, a little help?”

Rhodey sets down his bottle and places his hands where space is available on the handle. “Okay, on three we pull back. One, two, three!”

Again, nothing seems to be happening. The only evidence that the two men are trying to move mjolnir are the straining noises they’re making along with their ridiculously clenched faces.

Rhodey gives in first. “Tony! Tony! Let it go! It’s not happening.”

Tony finally releases the handle and winces at his hands uncurling. “JARVIS! Where’s the nearest gauntlet?”

“Under the bar, next to the Coronas, sir.”

“Bruce! Grab it, and get back over here!” Damn this hammer. There has to be some programming involved. Maybe a fingerprint signature that only responds to Thor.

Bruce does as he’s “asked,” finds the gauntlet where JARVIS said it would be, grabs a Corona while he’s there, and goes back to the group.

Natasha, needing some rational voice among this lunacy, turns to Steve. “You’re not going to raise any objections about Tony using his gauntlet off duty during what’s supposed to be our team bonding time?”

Steve shrugs. “It’s his house, and Tony knows what he’s doing with his tech. If he thinks it’s safe to try using the gauntlet on the hammer, then I have no right to object.”

“ _Thank you_ , Steve.” Tony says. “You’re back on the Christmas gift list.”

Natasha squints at Steve. “You just want to see Tony fall on his ass.”

Steve gives his most serene smile, but doesn’t say anything in response. He just leans back on the couch, turns to Thor, and shares a knowing look with him. This is so much better than charades.

Tony fires up the gauntlet, grabs ahold of mjolnir’s handle, and oh dear God the metal glove starts making the worst screeching sound. The literal sparks begin to fly, and if everyone is honest with themselves, they’re all a bit giddy. They’re getting a show of fireworks and Tony Stark’s embarrassment. Two great pastimes that go great together.

Then everything stops. The noise stops, the sparks stop, Clint stops reaching for the chips. The gauntlet shuts down, breaks apart from Tony’s hand, and the pieces clink and clank to the floor.

Tony looks down at the mess on the floor. From there, he looks at mjolnir, which looks no worse for wear. “Well, shit.”

He might actually cry.

Rhodey places an arm around Tony’s shoulders and starts leading him away from the wreckage. “It’s okay, buddy. There’s other things you’re worthy at. Remember that time you built a metal suit that flies and shoots lasers? Yeah, that was you!”

Tony looks straight into his best friend’s eyes. “You are such an asshole.”

“But don’t you see, Tony? You’re the only one  _worthy_  of my brand of asshole treatment. Just you.”  With that, Rhodey takes them to sit on the chow chow couch.

“Okay, that’s it. Nat, we’re up.” Clint gets up and starts doing some strange, flailing lunges on his way to the hammer.

Natasha sighs. “No amount of limbering up is going to make lifting that hammer possible.” But she gets up too and cracks her neck and knuckles along the way.

“I’m not leaving anything to chance. After we’ve placed our hands on mjolnir, we need to send a quick prayer to Odin before trying to lift it.”

Thor scoffs. “My father does not hear prayers.”

“Well, I bet if you ever introduced me to him, he’d hear mine. I mean, I’m a real catch, Thor. If things don’t work out for you and Jane, you might want to consider me.” Clint grabs ahold of mjolnir. “Parents love me. And you, pal, would be getting hitched to the Avenger with the best ass.”

“Like hell, Barton.” Natasha takes exception. This is an old argument between the master assassins. “You would die doing my squat routine.”

Clint just gives Thor a last look and a wink before turning his rear very purposefully in Thor’s direction. Indeed, the view is excellent.

Natasha grabs the handle with Clint, they do a countdown, and predictably, the hammer’s not wiggling. At one point, Natasha places her feet on Clint’s thighs for leverage, making him scream like a 3-year-old.  Clint, surprisingly, is the first to give up. When Natasha doesn’t stop along with him, Clint manages to pay attention to just how intensely she’s getting into trying to pick the hammer up. The expletives in multiple languages are flying out of her mouth, and she moves to bear hug it. She’s starting to fight the hammer like it insulted her mother.

Clint has to pull her off the thing and hold back her arms. “Oh my God, Nat. I am so glad you didn’t bring your Widow’s Bite.”

It goes quiet in the room for a minute before Thor’s voice cuts through. “Dr. Banner, are you up for the challenge?”

Bruce is still staring wide-eyed at Natasha, who is being pinned in a corner by a valiant Clint. She spits in the hammer’s direction.

Bruce turns back to glance at mjolnir. “Uhh, best not,” he says, sheepishly but with finality. Thor nods in understanding, patting the open spot next to him in invitation for Bruce to sit.

“That just leaves you, good captain.”

Steve can be a stubborn guy. He’s self-sacrificing to the point of shutting everyone else out to keep them safe. But he knows the value of a team. He had Bucky and the Commandos, and sure, there are all kinds of tragedy in that mix, but they did great things. They were always better together.

When the world is on the line, the members of this new team of his give their all to back each other in the fight. When there is no threat, they still choose to be by each other’s sides. Because even the good days can be made better together.   

In conclusion, Steve is going to have to try to move this stupid hammer in the name of team spirit.

“Sure, Thor,” Steve finally responds, “I’d love to lift your hammer.”

Tony chokes on a laugh. Steve smirks. He’s not blind to the innuendo of his words. It was his little self-deprecating gift to the group.

He gets up smoothly and doesn’t dally about gripping the hammer’s handle securely. Steve has no delusions of worthiness; he plans to give one solid pull and call it a night.

And he budges it.

Thor gets up so fast that he gets a head rush and has to sit back down.

The group gapes at Steve in a stunned silence, and the super soldier doesn’t know what to do. He’s got a weird mixture of pride, fear, and confusion directed at what he did. From the looks his team is giving him, they feel the same. Steve kind of wishes the floor would open up and swallow him right now.

That’s when the killer robot crashes the party.

Before making his transformation, Bruce takes one last look around the room at his friends. “Guys, we really should have stuck with karaoke.”

-end-


End file.
